Page 62 of A Banh Mi for Two
The journalism results are in. They just emailed me. Can you please come over?
Chapter Thirty-OneLAN
“Over here!” I yell when I catch sight of a breathless Vivi running toward me, her sandals squeaking as she makes her way from the front gate to the house.
“Hey,” she says, her hand reaching for mine, and though there’s a smile on her face, I can sense something is wrong. Still, she doesn’t let me get a word in, and scoots my butt to the left of the swing as she takes the phone from me. “Are you nervous?”
“I’m terrified.” I stare at my hands, fingers itching to pick at my scabs. Anything to pass time. To subdue the rising anxiety. “This is all or nothing, Vivi. I need to win. My family needs the money.”
“I’m confident they chose you. It will all work out. I promise.”
“Can you open it for me? I’ve been staring at the unread email for the past fifteen minutes, and I just can’t do it.”
What if they say no?
What if this was all for nothing?
What if despite all our efforts, there was no hope anyway?
Vivi inhales sharply, her nails rapping against my phone as she clears her throat. “‘Dear Miss Phan Ng?c Lan, thank you for your submission to the Southeast Asia Travel Magazine. The team was completely struck by your writing and poise, and by how you eloquently described Sài Gòn. We could feel the deep love you have for the city, as well as how much cultural knowledge you harbor. Unfortunately…’” Her face falls.
“What?” I try to pry for my phone, but she yanks her arm away.
She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes darting back and forth from me to my phone screen. “Do you want me to read the rest?”
I nod.
“Unfortunately, we ultimately decided to move on with another story for the contest.”
A breath hitches in my throat, the whistling in my ears becoming louder. “Oh.”
It’s over.
I didn’t win.
I couldn’t do it.
“Wait. There’s more.” She grabs my arm. “However, we truly did fall in love with your writing and portrayal of Vietnam. We’d love to offer you one of the newest positions on our team. An opportunity as a paid journalist throughout Southeast Asia writing content for the magazine.”
Eyes wide, Vivi grabs both of my shoulders and envelops me into a full hug. “Lan! This is huge. You didn’t win, but you kind of did? They gave you a job. You can travel!” Still beaming, she squeezes my hands. “I told you. Didn’t I? I knew you could do it.”
I avoid her gaze. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. They’re not happy tears. Instead, I feel… angry.
She blinks and hesitates. “Is there something wrong?”
Too many things are wrong. I’m confused about my own emotions. I should be happy, so why aren’t I?
“I don’t think I can take the job.”
She frowns, my answer catching her off guard. Hurt forms on her face, and still holding my hand, she fumbles through her words, her voice cracking. “But why not? You want to go see the world. To travel and learn and grow. Now you can! You can do what you’ve always dreamed of. If you have a good paying job,” she continues. “Wouldn’t you be able to send money back? That was your goal, right? The money. It’s not like you’re leaving for good. You can always visit.”
“You don’t understand, Vivi.”
What if something happens while I’m away? What if I never get the chance to say goodbye again?
Tears well up in her eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t say that to me. At least help me understand rather than just brushing me off! My own mom says that to me, but how am I supposed to understand when all people do is lie and not tell me anything?”
I dig my nails into my palm, prickling my skin, but they remind me not to cry. “I can’t change overnight. I can’t abandon this entire city and my family. I can’t just get up and leave for an ‘opportunity.’”
